Knight and Hat
by AddeyWabbit
Summary: In his final moments, Riddle's Diary Horcrux kills Ginny out of spite. Torn apart by the decision he made and his emotions running high, Harry takes The Sorting Hat and escapes from Hogwarts to allow the Hat to shape him into the man he's meant to be. A Knight.


_Flight From Hogwarts._

**A/N: Firstly, I don't own HP.**

**Two main sources of inspiration for this story. Forests of Valbone and Bravery Nerve and Chivalry or something. Forests of Valbone is in my opinion the best story on this website. It's enjoyable mainly through it's sheer simplicity of an enrapturing adventure**

**I think everyone writing on here just wants to improve, so constructive criticism would be wonderful cheers. Hopefully there aren't too many grammatical errors, but I'm sure theres a fair few hidden away.**

_Harry raised the fang high, preparing to strike down and end the diary that had been the cause of so much misery this year._

_"Stop!" Riddle's voice rang out across the chamber._

_"You do that- and I'll make sure the last thing I do is to snap the girl's life force like a twig," the older boy threatened._

_"You'll do it anyway," Harry whispered. His hands were shaking and he tried not to drop the fang from his weak grasp._

_"I give you my word, as a wizard, that no harm will come to you or the girl once I have my body," Riddle smiled charmingly, but it only looked like poison to Harry._

_But even if he did keep his word, he'd kill loads more people once he had a body. He couldn't allow this, Hogwarts was his home, Hogwarts had to be be safe again._

_Harry swallowed and closed his eyes. He couldn't look. He brought the fang down whistling through the stale air of the chamber. It dug into the diary deeply, potent venom sizzling and dissolving the pages._

_"NO!" Riddle screamed._

_Harry's reaction was similar. For Ginny's softly breathing form gave one final jerk and then like a marionette with it's strings cut, went still. He let out a soft cry, his world collapsing around him as Fawkes gave a long sad trill._

_Harry eventually trudged into the Headmaster's office, his cheek sporting a new shiny red bruise, courtesy of Ron's breakdown and subsequent fist. Squeezed into Dumbledore's office was the entire Weasley family, looking frantic but not yet shattered. They hadn't heard yet. They soon would be._

3

"It's not your fault Harry. You made an infinitely difficult choice, one no one your age should have to make." Dumbledore comforted quietly. The centennial wizard was seated on the other side of his desk looking unusually tired. His usually well kept beard was scraggly and his wrinkles were more pronounced than ever.

"I promised Ron. I promised I'd save his sister..." Harry sighed. The events of over a week ago had taken their toll on the boy, and dark bags shadowed his eyes.

"Tell me professor. If I had chosen- _her_ life instead. Tom wouldn't have been able to get out of the castle anyway, you were waiting at the exit."

"He would have killed you Harry... and Miss Weasley as well for that matter." Dumbledore spoke, any trace of his usual cheer long gone. He sounded well past his years.

"We don't know that... maybe he would have kept her as a hostage," Harry asked desperately.

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore in a tone that bespoke he didn't really believe it.

Harry wanted to keep asking, keep coming up with something. Something- anything to distract him from the phantoms plaguing his thoughts. But he was too tired and settled for slumping in his chair.

"He's not dead is he professor? He's going to come back, I know it." Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long critical moment, electric blue eyes locked onto emerald green through his moon spectacles. "No. I'm afraid Voldemort... will make a return. He's descended too deep into the dark arts, well I'm afraid death isn't as much of an obstacle for him as most."

"But he is killable right?" Harry asked in a panic.

"I believe so. I have my suspicions as to why." Dumbledore said shortly. Harry waited for him to elucidate, but the Headmaster remained silent.

Harry stared at the smooth hardwood of Dumbledore's desk. Swirling patterns made by aged tree rings constructed an interesting pattern that easily held the attention of Harry's hazy mind. Minutes of silence dragged on and by the time Harry looked up, the sky had grown dark and overcast. The sun had sunk below the horizon and night crept in while he sat plagued by his choices.

Eventually Dumbledore's close scrutiny of Harry came to an end and he rose from behind his desk. His absurdly colourful robes were in stark contrast to his grim demeanour, they hung around his current disposition like a noose. He gave Harry a smile that didn't reach his tired eyes and gestured to the door.

"Alas, I'm afraid I have an appointment at the ministry, Harry." Dumbledore finally spoke softly. "Stay as long as you would like please," he said. His voice was comforting like a blanket and he stood to leave with regret.

"Thankyou headmaster... I think I'll stay a little while longer," Harry replied, unmoving. He didn't want to go back to the stares, the judgement evident in people's eyes for the choice he'd made. The news that he'd made the choice between a girl's life and what many saw as blind revenge, gave way to conflicting opinions in the castle.

"As you wish..." The old Headmaster stepped around Harry and crossed his office. He opened the door and faltered, "I hope you will remember Harry... help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

Harry swallowed but his throat wouldn't work. Frustration crept in and tears snuck into the corners of his eyes. The headmaster patiently waited at the door until finally the dam in Harry's throat burst and everything began to flood out on a wave of emotion.

"Professor, everyone stares and whispers about me- they blame me," he blurted. "Ron is the worst, but I don't even know how much of it is just me judging myself but I cant stop. I feel lost like, just adrift in great big void, I can't go to class because I just sit there uselessly while my thoughts turn against me."

Harry took a deep gasping breath as his tears finally spilled out of his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. "I can't sleep properly. I dream of blackness and Tom Riddle... _she _shows up and asks me why- she asks why I didn't save her. Was _revenge_ more important than saving an innocent life?"

"Tom Riddle killed me just as he did Ginny. I don't feel like Harry Potter anymore. Someone's kicked out everything anchoring me from and scooped me me out, I feel like I'm just a shell floating around now."

Silence answered him and when Harry looked at the doorway, it was empty. He let out a choked little sob but felt a small burst of anger. "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," he said sarcastically.

He was taken aback when a voice in the corner snarled, "Help _will_ be given to those who ask... but sometimes they need to help themselves!"

Harry's eyes darted to a familiar lump in the corner. A crumpled sorting hat sat on a shelf, observing him, its folds glaring at him. He stood, crossed the office warily and lifted the hat from its perch.

With shaking hands he reached inside the hat and tied, once more to pull out the glittering sword. There was nothing, the hat was empty. Just like him in a way, where was the bravery now?

"Perhaps you aren't Gryffindor enough anymore eh?" The hat sneered at him. Harry felt a flash of anger and frustration.

"I don't know what I've done wrong though... what would you have done then! TELL ME WHAT I'VE DONE WRONG!" Harry finally roared at the hat. He picked it up and threw it across the room, the piece of cloth skidded across the smooth floor and a beautiful sword tumbled out.

"Or perhaps you are!" The Hat laughed. "You want help boy? Put me on your damn head then and I'll see what I can do. But I have a feeling you already know exactly whats wrong!" It chuckled, undaunted by his tantrum.

Harry reined in his anger and complied, sliding the hat over his eyes again. Unbidden, memories of fighting the basilisk with this same hat rose and he felt himself shake. For a long period of time the hat just sat on his head. Harry could feel it rummaging through his mind, it felt like a brush gently pushing against the inside of his skull.

The hat was just beginning to speak. Harry felt a rush of anticipation, the hat was going to fix him! Then the door to the office creaked open and Harry whipped around.

"Potter!" Severus Snape snarled, his black cloak billowing behind him as he marched into the office.

Harry glared at the man. He'd had enough, and a surly potions master coming to insult him wasn't going to have it easy this time.

"What are you doing in here? Playing with The Sorting Hat are we?" Snape sneered. The ill demeanoured man moved towards him threateningly and he gripped the sword tighter.

But then Snape dissapeared. In his place was a sneering Tom Riddle and Harry felt the blood in his veins boil.

"BACK!" Harry shouted at the older boy. He swiped the sword and pressed it against the boy's chest threateningly. Then Harry blinked and Tom Riddle was gone, in his place was Snape once more.

"I'll see you expelled for this Potter!" Snape hissed. The professor's eyes blazed with barely restrained fury.

"DO IT THEN, EXPEL ME, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!" Harry screamed back. Harry edged around Snape, keeping the blade pinched into the older man's chest. He edged his way to the door before bolting away and slamming the door behind him.

He sprinted down the steps and past the stone gargoyle. A red light flashed in his peripherals and with a bang smashed into stone. Harry ignored it and ran. He just ran. Student and teacher alike stopped and stared at the small boy running for the hills, Sorting Hat perched on his head and a glimmering sword gripped in one hand.

"What do I do Hat!" Harry gasped as he ran out the great hall and into the courtyard.

The Hat replied, "to the forest boy! I can't help you here, we're going to need time and space alike to pick up the pieces."

"How long? What happens when Dumbledore realises I'm missing?" "Boy, you just threatened a professor with a sword, do you really want to go back anytime soon?" The Hat asked rhetorically.

Harry grimaced but didn't answer. He looked back at the castle to see Professor Snape sweeping out of the courtyard. "Goodbye," He whispered sadly, to everything he'd ever known. Then without looking back again, Harry ran into the Forbidden Forest.

3

The forest was dark and forboding as ever. The trees whispered in the night breeze and Harry shivered, wrapping himself tight in his cloak.

"Faster boy! We have a long journey ahead of us and we'd best get out of this forest before the spiders catch wind of us." The Hat urged.

Harry held his sword a bit tighter at the mention of the huge acromantulas Hagrid was fond of. They'd already tried to eat him once this year after all. "I can't see in this light, I keep almost tripping over," Harry complained as he stubbed his toe on a root for the umpteeth time.

"Use the sword fool." The Hat replied and Harry could almost imagine it rolling its eyes- if it had eyes.

"The sword lights up?"

"Of course... it is an _enchanted_ sword you know! Just focus on making light with it boy." Harry did as he was asked and the sword glowed with a effervescent golden light, like a miniature sun. It effortlessly lit up the trees and Harry hurriedly adjusted it to a more cautious level, there _were_ spiders after all.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as he trekked through the trees.

"A safe place where I can help you. It's further north, a few days of hard travel." Harry would have groaned if leaving Hogwarts behind him didn't feel so freeing. He was gone, away from the whispers and the judgement of his friend.

They walked in silence for several hours, as The Hat wanted to listen out for any signs of the marauding acromantulas. Eventually The Hat let out a deep rumbling sigh and judged them clear of any arachnid threats.

"Albus was wrong. You are to blame." It said finally.

Harry stopped walking abruptly in shock. _What the hell is it playing at?_

"You made a choice... was it the right choice? I don't know. The question is, why did you make that choice?" The Hat said quickly.

"What do you mean?"

The Hat sighed, Harry imagined that if it had hands it would have been rubbing its forehead. "Let's be honest here. You condemned that girl to die... but did you do it out of revenge, or did you do it to make the school a safer place?" The Hat spoke in such a way that Harry knew there would be no judgement. Just an ear to get it off his chest.

"I didn't want the school to shut down, I wanted Hogwarts to be safe again. A part of me- a part of me didn't really believe he was going to kill her you know? We'd gotten into loads of dangerous trouble last year and all those petrifications, but no one was ever seriously hurt..."

"Did you want to kill him for your parents?" The Hat inquired curiously.

Harry gave a long drawn out sigh. "No, I did it for me. I didn't want the school to close down... Hogwarts is my home. But I also wanted to save Ron's sister." He said finally, shame creeping in.

"I understand- Hogwarts is my home too," The Hat said pityingly.

"I guess... in the end my own selfish desire to stay at Hogwarts won out over the life of a little girl."

"No need to be so melodramatic, she wasn't that much younger than you, and like you said- you didn't really believe she was going to die." Hat pointed out. "It was a valuable experience for you, if Voldemort isn't going to stay dead."

Harry grimaced, "I s'pose." He said shortly. "Wait- why are you even asking me any of this if you can see inside my head?" Harry demanded.

The Hat chuckled. "I thought it might help for you to talk it out with someone," it said.

"Have you figured out what's wrong with me then yet?"

The Hat gave a deep rumbling chuckle, "you're afraid. So very very afraid. Afraid you made the wrong decision, afraid of dying, afraid of staying this empty, and afraid that when Voldemort comes back he'll take away more of your friends. Rightfully so I think..." The hat mused.

"I'm not scared!" Harry snapped angrily.

"It's not such a bad thing. A bit of fear goes a long way in warding off stupidity, temper it with a good dose of bravery and don't let it consume you and you'll be in good stead."

"So can you fix me or what!" Harry finally demanded, his loud voice echoed and whispered through the trees.

"Can I fix you?" The Hat repeated blandly.

"Of course! It would be pretty bloody annoying if I ran away only to find you can't fix me after all!" Harry snapped angrily.

The hat just chuckled, undaunted. "Only you can fix yourself boy. I can help, I can point you in the right direction... but ultimately it's up to you I'm afraid."

Harry wanted to scream at The Hat, the revelation that this feeling, this emptiness was going to persist- it hollowed him even more.

"I'm sorry. I am just a hat you know?" The Hat sounded almost mournful.

Harry felt slightly ashamed. He hadn't given the best showing of himself to the first person to truly try and help him.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered quiety, his anger evaporating as quickly as it came.

"I know you are."

Harry sighed, "so where do we start?" He asked.

If Harry could see the feral grin in The Hat's folds he would have shivered. "By training you up until you aren't afraid anymore of course!" The Hat answered gleefully.

3

The Hat made him walk through the night. His stomach growled and complained but The Hat's answer was firm. "If you can't survive being hungry for a night, well you won't survive Voldemort I'll tell you that boy," was the answer he'd get.

It was cold too. A wind brought waves off frost with it through the wood, biting at exposed flesh. Harry would have complained about that too, but long nights sitting awake in a draughty castle recently had hardened his resolve in that regard.

They stalked through the darkness. Past huge trees, over rolling hills and through gently flowing streams. The Hat refused to say where they were going, instead regaling him with stories of old.

For The Hat seemed to have a never ending supply of stories to share. He talked about anything from The Founders of Hogwarts, to witch burnings and goblin rebellions. He spoke as if he had first hand knowledge of these things, which made sense if he really was made by Godric Gryffindor.

"What was Gryffindor like?" Harry asked curiously.

"Brave, bold and noble. He tried to do what was right for the world, but he'd be the first to admit that he made many mistakes through his life and was as imperfect as any man," The Hat ceded.

"What do I call you?" Harry enquired.

"Hat? What else would you call me?" The Hat shook his head at Harry's foolishness and Harry flushed.

"Are you like a real person? Or more like a portrait?" Harry asked, knowing portraits weren't actually a person, merely a caricature of their dominant personality traits.

"Are you stupid boy? I've got more soul than anything_you_ have ever met!" Hat boasted proudly. Harry shook his head, he'd quickly learnt Hat was very prideful.

3

Eventually the sun began to peek orange over the horizon, soaking the dewy field Harry walked through.

"You hungry boy?" The Hat asked.

"Just a bit," Harry answered snarkily. The gnawing at his stomache was quickly making him impatient with The Hat's history lessons.

"You're going to have to face more than a rumbling belly to defeat Voldemort." Harry rolled his eyes tiredly, while he liked the idea of being trained (even if it was by a hat,) the process itself probably wouldn't be all it was hyped up to be.

"Cut the attitude. See that plant over there boy?"

"Where?"

"Curse being a bloody hat! By the damn oak."

"Which one's an oak?" Harry asked, feeling a little embarassed.

"Big sturdy looking one to your right, those are wild onions, we'll make a meal out of them yet."

Under The Hat's guidance Harry quickly foraged the onions, along with some nettles and an armful of wild mushrooms. He then gave him the basic instructions to make a "wonderful mushroom onion soup."

"How am I going to cook them though?" Harry asked, his stomach rumbling hungrily.

"Are you a wizard or not boy? Transfigure something into a cauldron of course!" Hat chided like it was a simple task.

The Hat sighed frustratedly at Harry's uncomfortable shuffling. "Point your wand at that branch over there boy," he instructed.

"I don't think I'm allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts."

"You'll disobey dozens of school rules to attempt to save a girl from a basilisk, but you won't break one to stop yourself from starving?"

"Won't I get expelled though?"

"You ask that after you threatened a teacher with a sword... but no. The Forbidden Forest is as soaked with magic as can be and a simple transfiguration will be like a needle in a haystick to the Ministry."

Harry nodded and pointed his wand at a half rotted branch. It looked slightly slimy from the recent rainfall and he wasn't entirely sure it was safe to cook in, transfigured or not. "Now say cauldronificus and move your wand in a semi circle," The Hat instructed.

Harry complied but the branch firmly stayed a branch. "You have to really mean it," The Hat put in helpfully. Harry nodded and waved his wand again, growling in frustration when it again had no effect. It took many more tries and growls of frustration, but helped by The Hat's instruction he soon had a cauldron.

"Incendio," Harry murmed at a pile of somewhat dry branches he'd arranged into a tipi shape. This was one spell he did know, and the branches lit up with a small puff of steam, soon merrily crackling away.

Harry grinned at his success. Chopping the onions with a sword proved a clumsy task no matter how sharp the blade, by the end he was immensely glad the blade was enchanted not to chop off its wielder's fingers.

Next he walked down to a nearby stream to fill the cauldron with water. Hat told him that soon he'd have to learn to conjure water- "Very useful skill," it said.

"Soooo... what are we going to do?" Harry drew out, feeling in higher spirits now that his belly was full, even if the meal was bland at best.

The Hat was silent for a long moment as if debating whether it was time to say something as of yet. "The Order of the Pheonix," Hat began, "A knightly order, they stood up for what was just and right in their quest to purge all the lands of dark magic. Voldemort at the height of his power would be no match for them- they slaughtered dark lords you see. In fact, Godric Gryffindor was once a mageknight of The Order." The Hat spoke with fondness as he recalled better times he had been privy too.

"And I'm going to join the order?" Harry asked with an emotion he hadn't felt in a while, excitement. The prospective of joining an order Gryffindor had once been a part of was an attractive one.

"No... I haven't actually heard anything of them in centuries," Hat admitted.

"They're not around today?" Harry asked curiously, traipsing over a fallen log.

"I'm not sure, and perhaps that's why the dark arts run rampant over the world. Dark witches and wizards popping up all over the place!"

"What happened to them if they were so great?"

"I-I wouldn't know... they were around a millenium ago and doing a fine job of things, but I haven't heard about them in a long time." For the first time The Hat sounded unsure and a little hesitant. "From what I've seen it's all gone to the heap since they dissapeared. They made normal folk feel safe in their beds at night and dark arts practitioners quiver in their caves."

"What am I going to do then?" Harry questioned the hat on his head.

"I was created by Godric Gryffindor you know boy!" Hat barked. "The greatest wizard the order ever produced, and I'm going to teach you how to be a knight- same as him!"

Harry was silent as it all began to make sense. After all if he was a knight of Godric Gryffindor's calibre... he wouldn't be afraid anymore, and he could protect his friends.

It didn't hurt that he'd always wanted to be a knight. Playing with toy soldiers in the darkness of his cupboard had caused him to always dream of being as powerful and noble as a knight.

3

They continued on their journey. Harry found out from the Hat that they were heading further north up Scotland and although a small part of his mind was worried about how he'd left Hogwarts behind, the greater part was determined to take The Hat up on it's offer.

As they trekked across the countryside, Hat instructed him in useful ranging skills. He told him which plants were edible, various rudimentary wards, and how to conserve energy while doing hard travel. The Hat was a bad tempered impatient teacher that would snap at the slightest error, but Harry was grateful all the same as it took his mind away from the darker corners of his thoughts.

It took the greater part of a week but eventually The Hat warned him they were nearing their destination.

uncanny valley

"Down boy!" The Hat hissed. Harry quickly ducked down behind the rotted log but it was too late. The woman- _thing_ had seen him.

The creature's face grew sharper and crueler, hit with uncanny valley, Harry shivered. The thing kept staring at him until it's beautiful porcelain skin grew hard and grey, and it's sky blue eyes bloomed into blood red pools. He suddenly fervently wished he had had the foresight to bring his invisibility cloak with him somehow, he would have given anything to vanish from under that malicious gaze.

"Defend yourself boy- the sword!" The Hat cried, nudging Harry out of his trance. Gripping the sword in a tight two handed grip, Harry stood up and levelled the sword at the creature which was now slowly approaching.

"Stay back!" Harry warned with more bravery than he had.

"Fool! It can't be reasoned with- kill it- kill it boy! Charge it and slay it with the sword!"

At The Hat's words the malicious red eyes of the creature filled with anger too. It opened its pale lips wide, giving way to sharp needle rows of teeth, and screamed. The scream was made up of sheer terror and mortality, Harry's bones were struck cold and his hair stood on end.

"Don't run, cowardice will only get you killed here- strike it down now!" The Hat cried.

Most people would have ran then. Faced with a sinister and terrible monster advancing on him Harry wanted nothing more than to flee. But he had come to trust The Hat. So with a deep breath Harry forced his legs into action and he charged the creature with a yell.

It ducked- the glittering blade swept over where the creature's head had been a fraction of a second ago. Harry heaved and tried to cleave it in two on the backswing. The creature leapt backwards out of the way and the blade sliced mere air, with a snarl the creature leapt forward and raked sharp claws across flesh.

With a cry Harry stumbled back. Fresh blood wept from three deep lashes across his chest, his filthy robes tattered.

He looked up to see the creature leaping for him, with a touch of deja vu he readied his blade and thrust upwards- gutting the creature. It spasmed and twitched on his blade, clawing at his arms, but Harry's resolve held firm and he gave the sword an almighty twist. The creature twitched one final time and went still.

Harry gasped with relief, but any respite was short lived. "Now's the time to flee boy, run past that huge oak- all the evil in the forest would have heard that scream!" The Hat commanded. As if on cue a series of howls echoed, maybe only a few hundred metres away.

Harry stumbled forth, adrenaline pushing his body to the limits as he flew through the trees. His peripheral vision was flashing green and brown as he fled for his life through the forest. Eventually Harry burst through the treeline and almost catapulted into a deep looking river.

"To your right boy! There's a ford!" The Hat shouted, its voice verging on panic as Harry heard twigs snapping behind him.

Harry didn't need to be told twice and darted down to where a series of rocks and logs provided a feasible if slippery crossing to the river. He didn't dare look behind him as a series of snarls tore out of the forest.

Past the ford was a gravel path climbing up a hill and The Hat yelled him onwards. The climb was gruelling but Harry forced aching legs up the hill. His chest was now freely dripping down his front and painting the stones beneath his feet red. Harry ignored this, safety was at the top, somehow he _knew _this.

Eventually Harry crested the hill. A few metres in front of him was a lodge. It was an oaken log and plank construction, a sprawling one storey affair with a single narrow tower rising up out of the middle._ It was safety_ Harry knew without the Hat telling him and he rushed for the door, only letting out a sigh of relief once the door slammed behind him.

Harry realised detachedly that he was shaking, the adrenaline had kicked his body into another gear entirely. "There's medical supplies in the cupboard next to you," The Hat told him. With trembling hands Harry reached into the cupboard and under Hat's rigorous instruction he set about tending his wounds.

First he gulped down a brew that tasted like sand and off meat. "It's more than a little past the expiry date," Hat chuckled. Harry wondering if he'd just poisoned himself moved onto a needle and thread. It was enchanted and ran through his skin like butter as he sutured his the cuts closed.

"There's dark magic in the claws of a banshee you see. A healing charm can seal up most cuts easily enough, but I doubt we'd have time to teach you a good enough one to overpower the dark magic in your wounds before you bleed to death," The Hat explained.

Harry just nodded dumbly and slumped against the wall. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and drift off. "If you're throat's a little dry- water in the cellar. And ale but s'pose you're a little young yet eh?"

"Yeah..." Harry muttered. He inspected the sword, crimson painted along the length of the blade.

"We'll have to get you yer own blade at some point. But that can wait 'till you've got the basics down," Hat continued. He was clearly excited to be on such an adventure. Even if it was to train a _snot nosed twelve year old_ in his words. Harry supposed sitting in the headmaster's office making up a new song every year and sorting a few dozen kids would get boring fast.

"My own sword?" Harry queried.

"Are you deaf boy? You're not going to be a knight _exactly _like Gryffindor. So you need your own blade, for your own talents."

Harry didn't know how he felt about that. In a way he'd been growing quite attached to his current sword.

"You'll still keep this one, but the knight's swords only recognise their maker as their _true_ master. As Gryffindor as you are, you'll still want a blade that fits you perfectly, not merely well." The Hat paused and shifted on Harry's scalp. "It looks like it _has indeed_ been a long time since this old place was used as a base, judging by that potion and all this dust... that must be why evil seems to have moved back into the forest."

Harry looked around the room. There was a thick coat of dust that hung over every surface but other than that it looked to be a fairly normal entrance to a house. Several pairs of boots sat by the door next to the cupboard, while a broom hung on a rack above them.

"You wouldn't want to ride that thing, merlin brooms were slow back then," chuckled The Hat.

"So The Order of the Pheonix lived here then?" Harry asked, feeling a familiar sense of wonder as he looked around the rustic but still tasteful and impressively large house.

"Indeed. It was originally Godric's hunting lodge, but when he left The Order to found Hogwarts, he allowed them to use it as a base," The Hat nodded. "Because of the remoteness of the area, they mostly used it to train initiates such as yourself far away from any true danger. But I fear the evil that The Order fought into hiding has long since returned."

Harry felt awed that he was sitting in what had once been the abode of Godric Gryffindor, the bravest of the brave. "Those creatures... things that were chasing me, what were they?" He asked.

"Dear boy, you clearly don't know your creatures eh?" The Hat jibed.

Harry didn't know. Lockhart had never actually touched on anything useful about the creatures in his books, preferring to focus on how he'd singlehandedly and bravely defeated them.

"The things chasing you, well we didn't really get a good look did we? But I'd hazard a guess and say they were vargs." Seeing Harry's blank face The Hat elucidated, "We need to fill that empty noggin of yours up eh? Vargs, intelligent wolflike creatures. They have a particular taste for young wizarding flesh like yourself and are usually in league with werewolves and worse."

Harry flushed at The Hat's jibe, "So what's the plan from here then?" He asked The Hat.

"Like I told you, I'm going to try my best to make you into a Knight of the Pheonix. For you to become a full fledged knight you must perform three distinctive acts of true valour." Noting Harry's questioning gaze, The Hat frowned. "I suppose you have already one, confronting Voldemort when he attempted to seize the stone." Hat mused.

"Not the chamber?" Harry asked curiously.

"You went in there with the best of intentions, but it wasn't really a victory was it?" Hat asked rhetorically.

Harry shook his head sadly. "In the days of The Order we only recruited men who had already demonstrated bravery and heart. Only a man who had already performed an act of true valour could begin training," Hat explained.

"How long will it take me to become a knight?" Harry asked with a small yawn. A small part of him wanted to be among his friends again, not alone in a magical forest filled with dark creatures and a demanding hat.

"That's entirely dependent on you boy, but I don't tolerate slackers," Hat warned.

Harry shrugged tiredly and Hat suggested he get some rest. "Down the hall and to your right, that's the barracks," it instructed.

But Harry was already fast asleep.

3

Harry awoke more uncomfortable than he had ever been in his life. That was saying something too considering he had lived with the Dursleys, sometimes being locked outside on dewy grass for the night. At least he was pleasantly warm wherever he was, despite the floor being hard and his neck at a painful angle. He opened his eyes and it all came back to him- _Chamber, Ginny, Ron, Sword, Hat, Journey, Knight__.__.._

His body ached and his chest hurt something fierce but his mind felt clearer than it had in weeks, like the shroud that had been hanging over him recently was starting to lift.

"Ah finally you're awake. You sleep like the dead boy," The Hat grumbled. Harry muttered a similarly friendly greeting back.

Harry gingerly tugged away his filthy robe to inspect his wound. Pink puckered skin was barely starting to stretch across the deep grooves, he idly wondered if he was going to have another scar for his collection.

"Good, you heal fast boy," The Hat nodded approvingly. A faint smile tugged at Harry's lips, after all that was the closest thing to a compliment Hat was willing to give.

"We can put some salve on that now. Might be able to reduce the scarring a bit, but with wounds infected with dark magic it's hard to be sure."

Harry nodded and under The Hat's watchful gaze, applied a sticky green coat of a herbal salve to his wounds. They began to itch furiously and Harry had to restrain himself from scratching.

"The itching will past swiftly," Hat assured and led Harry down to the basement. The basement was a large room, perhaps ten by twenty metres. On the side closest to the stairs leading back up were racks of practice weapons. There were spears, swords and axes, even what looked to be a heavy siege crossbow. On the other side were rows of training dummies; some held wands, others swords, some were even made in the shape of various monsters.

"There's no time like the present eh? Pick up one of the training swords over by the rack," The Hat directed sternly.

"I can't use Gryffindor's sword?" Harry asked, dissapointed.

"Not yet, enchanted goblin forged sword like that? It'd make mince meat of the dummies."

"What about the other weapons?" Harry asked, eyeing off a large battleaxe.

"Ha! Scrawny little boy like you charging into a battle with an axe? Now that's something I'd like to see!" The Hat guffawed and Harry felt himself flush.

Harry picked up what Hat told him was a bastard sword. It was made out of wood but felt vastly heavier than The Sword of Gryffindor. "You need to put on some muscle see," Hat explained.

At first Harry happily accepted this without a second thought, he'd always hated being so skinny after all. But after several exhausting hours of The Hat's miserable instruction, he wasn't quite so happy. His arms ached, his feet burned and they hadn't even touched the dummies yet! Instead Harry was relegated to a straight post in the corner where according to Hat, his goal was to: "Pretend it's Snape."

Throughout his bashing exercise Hat would tell him how to improve his form and how to perform different strikes. "There are monsters with shells and hides as thick as a small tree! Step in to the thrust- drive it with your back and shoulders. Save your little arms the work eh?"

Still as they left the basement to go forage for food outside, Harry felt more alive than he had in weeks. He grabbed a basket woven from some kind of poisonous green vine, "Snatchvine, it doesn't like to let its contents fall out," Hat explained.

"Sun's not going to stick around much longer. Best get a move on, creatures much worse than that Banshee are kept at bay only by the sun." The Hat advised in his grumbling voice once they left the lodge. Harry nodded and he swiftly forded the river with the Hat perched on his head.

"Don't bloody drop me or you'll regret it boy," Hat gritted out. Harry almost cracked a smile, it was vaguely funny that Hat was afraid of getting a little wet.

The boots at the front door were far too large for Harry to wear and unfortunately his trainers, not designed for the journey he'd embarked on, were ragged and dirty now. Harry shrugged, Hat had said the wards of the lodge allowed him to do magic inside, maybe he could learn to shrink the clothes and boots in the lodge down to his size.

Across the river was the verdant forest. Harry used the sword of Gryffindor to hack away the lush foliage in his path as he

With the Hat's keen observation they quickly found a large patch of dandelions, "Food like this will toughen you up in more ways than one boy," Hat told him. "Dandelion stems are good for your blood, try fighting Dark Lords as a malnourished little stick eh?"

They continued foraging, venturing into ever more dense foliage and shrubbery. At the bottom of a small slope, Hat spotted a cluster of edible mushrooms. Not a start for the most appetizing meal, but with the herbs and spices sequestered away under preservation enchantments, it could be made edible.

Harry was just ripping out some wild parsley when The Hat screamed, "Fly boy!" It was so loud it reverbated through Harry's skull and he didn't need to be told twice. Harry quickly threw his spoils into the woven basket, and began to make way for the river. Howls echoed in the trees behind him, but Harry wasn't too far from the lodge and was certain he'd make it back in time.

His trainers were soaked as they slipped and splashed across the ford, the hem of his robe splashed by cool spring water. But Harry only looked back once he bowled into the lodge foyer once more. He bolted the door shut behind him and peered out the dusty window.

Large black furred wolves with beady yellow eyes sniffed around the riverbank, the edge of the wards. They were huge caricatures of normal wolves, thick sinewy muscled legs padded around patiently- _intelligently._

"I don't think they're too impressed with our presence," Hat said softly. Harry rather thought The Hat was right.


End file.
